I, Anonymous 

Hazards of the Holiday

My establishment was rented out Saturday night, you were a guest, and were served until my staff had to cut you off. You couldn't stand, you were fucking drunk, and telling my bartenders that you're cabbing it so you can keep drinking. When I was called over to make it very clear that you were not being served anymore, you didn't hesitate to say you were "related" to Governor Kitzhaber. I congratulated you on your connections, but you were still too intoxicated to be served. You demanded my name and a card, then called me a "poor bitch," and said you felt bad for me because I'm "so poor and ugly." I gritted my teeth, told you if you kept up that language you'd be asked to leave, and your friend escorted you to another table, where you continued to curse, make comments about the "ugly staff," "the bitches that are pouring are just lame," etc. You entitled-for-nothing, drunk, sad, horrible woman. Your rants made it onto someone's desk yesterday morning, and I got myself an apology on behalf of the clients who rented out the establishment. I hope your drunk ass peed the bed and woke up alone, and you had to stew in your own filth while reflecting on your shameful behavior.—Anonymous

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